


From Sleep to Swift Fury

by raiyana



Series: The Sea, The Sea [1]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Ossë's rebellion, SWG Holiday Feast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 19:42:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17372093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiyana/pseuds/raiyana
Summary: Based on a bit of Tolkien's poetry from The Fall of Arthur.In the South from sleepto swift furya storm was stirred,striding northwardover leagues of waterloud with thunderand roaring rainit rushed onward.





	From Sleep to Swift Fury

**Author's Note:**

> Starter course & fish course in one! mwahhahaa

He laughed in play, watching the waves crash against rock and tree, submerging and battering the cliffsides – more than one slide of earth had already fallen, revealing the mountain’s teeth beneath – the screams of tortured earth like sweet music floating above the harsh waves he commanded.

He was free, and he revelled in the seductive song of Melkor’s words, promising joy and splendour beyond reckoning, promising this _freedom_ to shape as he pleased, to raise storms and dance among their waves, to make his mark _truly_ upon the face of Arda.

The waters were chilled here, but their latent fury could not be halted once released, the icy depths rising to meet him, a rictus of pleasure gripping his soul as he watched another green wall rise and hammer against the coast.

“Oš’šai.”

He ignored her, lost in the frenzy of the churning water, the sound of icebergs breaking off the northern glaciers too loud, a crescendo of the song he had sung so long ago – or so recently? – as it landed upon the whipped-up seas, splashing even more waves outwards before it was tossed aside by his battalions of warriors.

Oš’šai – _was that his name? It sounded familiar…_ – laughed.

“Oš’šai!” The voice called once more, closer now, deeper, _familiar_. The yearning that filled him at the sound of her voice was terrifying, the water rising around him, shielding him from _her_ eyes.

 _Uynen_.

He knew her well – too well, he thought, wanting to turn back to her, wanting to but not-wanting to do so even more.

_Uynen – sweet softness and warmth, playful touches and tenderness._

She had made her choice and he had chosen in turn; chosen to join his Voice to Melkórë’s and leave Ullubōz’s service – leave _her_ side.

_Uynen – wild laughter and dancing in storms, imaginations and song, so much song._

He fled through the waters, the storm surrounding his freed spirit, moving too swiftly for any to follow.

And yet she did follow.


End file.
